


Keep this Dream in Me

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7128773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was helping somebody else when it happens. It's a little ironic that the doctor becomes the patient as he's tending a wound. The life he lived with Happy is lost, except for the fact that she won't let it stay lost for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep this Dream in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonwrite/gifts).



> You said amnesia, so I went angsty. A challenging prompt, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> Title from Losing Your Memory by Ryan Star, because why not make it hurt more?

Happy watches it happen. She can’t do anything but call his name desperately, get his attention as the car loses its balance and starts to fall toward Toby and the driver of that wrecked car.

And then all she can do is watch, because as hard as she runs she can’t get there in time.

“You idiot!” Happy shouts, frantically shoving at the car to get it off of him. She’s deadlifted 100 pounds before – she can move a freakin’ sedan. Cabe rushes up next to her, followed closely by Tim, and with the three of them working together they manage to move the car.

Toby’s on the ground next to the driver of the first car, blood along his hairline.

“Toby, wake up,” Happy demands, dropping to her knees next to him.

“I’ve called 911, told them we have another person down,” Paige says, sounding panicked. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know!” Happy snaps. “I’m an engineer, not a doctor.” She laughs a little hysterically, despite the situation. “Oh, god, now I’m quoting Star Trek.” She reaches down slowly, her fingertips shaking, to touch his cheek. She convinces herself she’d know if he was dead, that he’d feel cold or empty. But he’s warm, and she can hear him breathing, even if it’s shallow and ragged.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Doc,” Happy says firmly. “You’re going to wake up and you’re going to be okay.” Her breathing is almost as shaky and unstable as his. “Wake up now.”

He doesn’t.

The ambulance ride is a blur, Toby’s hand limp in Happy’s while the medics check on him. After all the time she’s spent sitting next to him while he babbled about medical nonsense, she’d thought she would have held on to some of what he’s said to her. But her mind is void of any and all information that could help Toby right now. She’s useless.

“Don’t make me lose you,” Happy says. She watches the hand not holding Toby’s shake as they stop in front of the hospital. His hand is still motionless in hers as the EMTs wheel him into the hospital, and Happy follows as far as she can as they wheel Toby into the hospital.

“Ma’am, you can’t go any farther. We will take care of him,” the nurse says. He’s got a kind smile and soft eyes, but Happy can’t care about that right now.

“Keep him safe,” she demands, but any force behind it is weak. “Okay?”

“We will do what we can,” he assures her, but Happy can’t help but notice how far that was from a promise.

She sits hard on a waiting room chair, and lets the world blur around her as she twirls the engagement ring on her finger, the one reminder of how far they’ve gone, how much they’ve fought through, to get where they are now.

And now she might lose him.

“Happy,” says Paige, sounding breathless from the run from the parking lot to the hospital door. “Thank god, you’re okay. How is he?”

Happy just shakes her head, curling her legs up to her chest. Then she shrugs.

“We’ll be here the whole time,” Paige reassures her. Mercifully, she keeps her distance one seat away from Happy. Instead, Paige sets a bag in the chair next to Happy so nobody else will set there, and she reaches in after god knew how long to find a water bottle.

She drinks it slowly, horrible possibilities and “what ifs” cycling through her brain.

Eight hours. She’s in the waiting room for eight hours as they check up Toby. She sleeps fitfully in the chairs as Paige and Ralph try to find comfort sitting on the floor, but all her dreams are marred by what could be happening. He’s not in need of surgery, at least not right now, but he’s getting MRIs and CAT scans and a bunch of other medical procedures Happy’s never heard of in her life. Her hands haven’t stopped shaking since she stepped out of the ambulance. Even though Paige and Sylvester are here, even though the doctor has sent a dozen nurses to give a dozen updates, she’s still scared.

Happy’s gone through too much to find Toby to lose him now.

Finally, the doctor herself walks out, smiling.

“He’s asleep now,” the doctor says. “Asleep, not unconscious. He woke up briefly, twice. He asked for you.”

Happy relaxes. “Okay,” she says. “What does that mean?”

“It means he knows who you are, and that he can speak,” she explains. “He’s got control of his arms and legs, he can see, and he doesn’t appear to have lost cognitive ability. However,” and this is the part that makes the bubble of hope burst in Happy’s heart, “we won’t know the full extent of his injuries until he wakes up again.”

“Why did you let him sleep?” Happy demands. “If it could cause further damage –”

“His brain needs to heal itself,” she explains. “We expect him to wake up on and off for short periods of time, but we’d like to keep him overnight to ensure that there is no further damage.”

“And if there is?” Happy asks.

“Well, depending on the damage, we can either release him to someone who can help him through recovery, or we will keep him here to keep a close eye on his functions.”

Happy nods. “But he’s okay? He’s alive?”

“He’s alive,” the doctor confirms. But, again, Happy can’t miss the fact that they only confirmed the second part.

Paige’s eyes dart over to Happy. “Can she go visit him?” Paige asks, and Happy didn’t even realize it was a question that needed to be asked.

“Yeah, can I?” Happy adds. She just wants to see that he’s okay, see that smile on his face that she’s only ever seen when he’s looking at her.

The doctor hesitates for just a moment. “I think we could try that.”

Happy’s too focused on standing up and following the doctor to Toby’s hospital room to think about why he said “try.”

Happy walks into the stark white room and relaxes when she gets a look at him.

“Hey, Happy,” Toby says, but the smile seems wrong. “Did I die?”

Happy rolls her eyes as she walks over to him. “Don’t be a dumbass,” she says, smiling at him. She reaches out and takes his hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“Why’re you here?” Toby asks, looking confused. His hand in hers is less than steady, and there’s something uncertain and unfamiliar about his grasp. “Shouldn’t you be trying to convince Walter not to let Collins let me die here or something?”

Happy blinks. “I’m here because  -” she cuts herself off. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“I mean, you’ve got better things to do,” Toby replies. “But you’re totally winning friend points.”

“I’m winning what?” she asks. Toby pulls his hand from Happy’s, his cheeks turning a little pink for no reason she can understand.

“Friend points,” Toby repeats. “Like, bffs or whatever the kids say these days.” He frowns. “You’re not still mad at me for that refrigerator prank last week, are you?”

Horror crawls up Happy’s throat. “Toby, can you tell me what year it is?”

The doctor darts in the door, looking concerned. “Ms. Quinn, I think you should –”

“It’s 2012, duh.” Toby says. He frowns. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right.” He feels around his chin. “I had – I had a beard yesterday. A long beard.” He looks at Happy. “Did you shave it off while I was asleep like you’ve been threatening?”

The realization hits Happy like a train, that horror in her throat spreading across her whole body.

When the nurse shuffles her out, Happy stumbles over herself in shock.

Paige walks over to her. “Happy, what happened in there?” she asks. “Talk to me, Happy.”

“He – he doesn’t remember anything past March of 2012,” Happy says, feeling dizzy. “He thinks we’re still just friends. He thinks – he thinks Collins is still on the team.” Another wave of horror. “Paige, he doesn’t know you or Ralph.”

Paige shakes her head. “This can’t be happening,” she says quietly. “Happy, are you okay?”

Happy shrugs, sitting down so hard it’s more like falling into the hard waiting room chair. “I don’t know,” she replies, her voice an unfamiliar echo in her ears. “I don’t know.”

~

It’s another four hours before the doctor comes out again, looking grim. “He has post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. It appears that he believes it’s a few years back –”

“March 2012,” Happy interrupts. “He thinks it’s March 2012.”

The doctor frowns. “How can you be so sure?”

“He asked me if I was mad at him for his refrigerator prank last week,” Happy says so quietly it’s more of a mumble. “That happened on March 13th, 2012. He thinks it’s late March, 2012.” She twists the ring he gave her, the ring she fought so hard to be able to put on.

She zones out as the doctor speaks, Paige taking down the information in a notebook as he talks about all the possibilities. Happy catches that Toby might get his memory back, that this might be temporary, and she looks up. “How do I help that happen?”

“Take care of him,” the doctor says. “It may be a few days.”

“But he’ll get it back,” Happy repeats, because that’s all she cares about, that’s all she can care about. “He’ll – he’ll remember this again?”

The doctor hesitates. “We can’t promise anything,” he says, words clearly chosen carefully. “But we’re hopeful. Though,” he clasps his hands, “it may be a while before he can comprehend or manage how much time he has lost. So it might be best for one of the doctors to be with you when you walk back in. He knew you five years ago, is that correct?”

Happy nods. “We were friends,” she replies. “He definitely knows me.”

“Alright, that’s a bonus,” the doctor says. He gestures for Happy to follow him. “If you’re ready, Ms. Quinn.”

Happy walks in behind the doctor, and Toby looks half nervous, half goofy.

“Hey, Hap,” he says, smiling at her. “Any reason these people are tiptoeing around me like I might break at any time?”

Happy looks up at the doctor, who just looks at her, like she’s expected to say this.

She twists the engagement ring around on her finger.

“Okay, Toby, this – this may not be easy to hear.”

He blinks. “Did somebody – did we lose somebody on the team?” He looks terrified. “Everyone’s okay, right? Walter and Sly and everybody? I don’t like him, but I’d be upset if Collins died, so just –”

“They’re all fine,” Happy says, trying to keep her usually steady hands from shaking. “Toby, it’s September of 2017.”

He blinks. And he’s silent for just long enough that Happy wants to take back her words. She’s never been good at easing into things, she’s not good at being gentle and careful. That’s Toby’s job, the people stuff. And here she is screwing it up when he needs her most.

“What?” he asks, and in that moment he seems incredibly young, incredibly vulnerable. Her job is to keep him safe, to protect this happy-go-lucky optimist from the world, but here she is, giving him the bad news when she couldn’t save him from the car.

“It’s from the accident,” she explains, and she looks up to the doctor, because this isn’t her expertise, this is Toby’s. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. “You were being you,” she manages a sad smile, “and trying to save somebody who had wrecked their car on the side of the road. You were trying to set this lady’s arm where she was – was pinned under her car.” The memory of what happened zips through Happy’s mind again. She watches the car shift and fall, hitting Toby on top of his head. She shivers – it’s like a nightmare that came true. “And then the car shifted, and hit you.” She taps her own head. “Right here.”

A million different emotions flit across Toby’s face. Disbelief, terror, pain, fear, and hope.

“And – and it’s not 2012?” he asks. His voice is hesitant, like he’s begging somebody to tell him that it is 2012 and that it’s all okay.

Happy shakes her head. She’s keeping so much distance it hurts, and for some reason she can’t pinpoint what they used to be like in 2012. Did they touch? Hold hands? Did they do much besides snark at each other and pretend they weren’t in love with each other?

Did she love him in 2012?

Happy settles for sitting down on his hospital bed, next to his feet. “It’s 2017,” she explains. Her voice is so quiet she barely hears it, but she can tell Toby heard from the look on his face. “You lost part of your memory.”

He nods. “Okay,” he says, his voice shaky. He’s looking between Happy and the doctor frantically. “Post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. This can heal, right?”

The doctor nods. “It can.”

Toby exhales. “Alright. Tell me what I need to do to heal.”

The doctor looks at Happy. “You’ll have to go home with someone who can take care of you. No sleeping for more than two hours at a time, and you will need to be woken up that frequently to ensure you don’t slip into a coma. Also, lots of rest.”

Toby plays with the edge of the blanket. “I live alone,” he says, frowning.

Happy is hit again with the realization of how much Toby has lost, but there’s a part of her that’s looking forward to seeing Toby’s reaction when he realizes they’re together, that they live together.

“Actually, you don’t,” Happy says.

Toby looks confused. “Did I get a roommate?”

She shakes her head. “We live together,” Happy says quietly, giving him a smile.

His eyes widen. “What? No. Like roommates?”

Happy presses her lips together. It’s hideously bittersweet, to see the absolute elation on his face to hear that they live together while knowing that he’s the one who suggested it and she’s slept in his arms for more than a year now, and he doesn’t know any of that. “Like dating,” she says quietly.

“You what?” Toby asks. “No. That’s not possible.”

Happy nods. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Doc, but your bachelor pad turned into our place.”

“Wait,” he says, “does that – we’re dating?”

Happy nods.

The doctor looks relieved, stepping away. “I’ll leave you two to reconnect,” he says. “Any concerns, hit that button on the wall. But I think you’re in good hands, Dr. Curtis.”

“I’d hope so,” Toby says, and there’s that grin of his, “apparently she moved in with me.”

When the door closes, Toby’s looking skeptical. “This is going to sound ridiculous,” he begins, “but on top of the narcissism I’ve got a touch of paranoia, so this isn’t some elaborate prank, is it?”

Happy shakes her head. “No, you idiot,” she replies. “What the hell kind of prank goes for this?”

Toby shrugs. “Collins has a mad sense of humor.”

Happy scoffs, something that sounds angry and hurt all in one, and the expression on Toby’s face reminds her that he’s got no clue just how mad Collins is.

“Touch a nerve there?” Toby asks. “Something happen in the past five years?”

Happy nods, sighing. “You have no idea.”

He studies her face. “Whatever he did, I’ll kill him,” he decides. “I mean, if we’re actually dating. And if you haven’t killed him.” He frowns. “The whole team is still alive, right?”

Happy nods. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she replies. “Um, but it looks a little different now.” She explains, briefly, the departure of Collins, the addition of both Paige and Ralph, the ins and outs of Cabe and Tim and Ray. Toby listens intently like she’s reading him a story, like this isn’t the life he’s lost but is instead some juicy soap opera.

“Hold on,” Toby says, holding up a hand. He yawns. “Tell me how this,” he gestures between the two of them, “happened.”

Happy shrugs. “I’m not actually sure. It just sort of – one day I woke up,” she shrugs again, because it’s hard to explain this to somebody, and even harder to explain this to Toby after he’s already watched it happen, “and I realized I didn’t want to be away from you anymore.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hair. “You made that kind of leap?”

“Shut up,” Happy says, but she’s grinning. “I’ve made a lot of progress in the whole feelings department.” She jerks forward, because she impulsively wants to hold his hand, but then she settles back. “I’m more of a person now.”

“You were always a person,” he says, and it’s so soft and so gentle that Happy can almost believe for a moment that her Toby, the one who woke up two mornings ago by Happy kissing him and ended up distracting Happy so much that they were an hour late for work, was back. And she begins to wonder if Toby was serious all those times he’s told her he’s loved her since he met her – because this expression on his face is similar to the one she’s seen a million times in the past year.

Happy smiles at him. “You always thought so,” she replies, playing with the zipper on her jacket. “And, eventually, I caught on. I kissed you in March of 2015, and then you slept through our date.”

His jaw drops. “I did what?!”

“Alprazolam,” Happy says, like an explanation. “Take half a pill next time.”

He nods slowly. “Why am I such an idiot?” he asks, more to himself than to Happy.

“Well, we worked out the kinks after a while,” Happy says. “You kissed me Christmas of 2015, and then,” she twists the ring on her finger, trying not to feel like she’s telling her life story to a stranger, “and then we nearly froze together, and I realized I didn’t want to fight this.”

Toby frowns. “You’re not screwing with me,” he says. “You – you really like me back?”

Happy holds up the ring she’d been able to wear six months before, the second time he’d proposed. “Actually,” she says, and somehow this time it’s more difficult to say than the first time, “I love you. And we planned on getting married.” She knows she should take off the ring – it’ll just throw Toby off – but she can’t. Happy never got attached to things, to people, before Toby, and here she is, unable to take off a simple piece of jewelry.

Toby stares at the ring with confusion. “We planned on getting married?” he asks, voice so quiet and so uncertain that Happy barely hears him.

She nods. Everything about her wants to run and curl up next to him in the hospital bed, to kiss him and feel him kiss back like he always used to.

Happy feels unfamiliar tears well up. She brushes them away roughly. “We did,” Happy replies, exhaling to try and steady herself. “Paige is all excited – she’s in charge of most of the planning. All I have to do is pick a dress.” Toby looks lost.

“Paige is the new girl?” Toby clarifies.

Happy tries not to hurt when she nods.

Toby looks at her like he’s studying her face. “Happy, I want to remember this,” he says, sounding broken. “If this is all true, if everything – if I,” he trails off, looking half horrified and half delighted, “if I got to be with you, I want to remember it.”

She offers him the most sincere smile she can muster. “You will,” she says.

He runs his hand through his hair, tugging a little in frustration. “I know the possibilities, Happy,” he says. “There’s a chance I won’t remember.”

And then, all the fear that had built in Happy’s heart over the long hours of this hell is burned out by motivation, a refusal to accept the horrible possibility. “Then we’ll build new things for you to remember,” Happy replies. She folds her legs underneath herself as she settles on the bed, acutely aware of the way her leg presses against Toby’s. “We’ll – we’ll go back to being who we were where you remember. We’ve always been best friends first, Toby.” It kills her to say her next words. “We can go back to being just best friends.”

Happy reaches to pull the engagement ring off her finger, but then Toby settles his hand on top of hers. “I’ve always loved you, Happy,” Toby says quietly. “And I always will.”

She nods. “I know.” In Toby’s mind, this is the first time he’s ever said it. In Happy’s, she’s lost count of what number this is.

“And you love me?” The uncertainty, the confusion in his voice, blend together to break her heart. Toby’s always been the steady one, the sure one in their relationship. And here he is, doubting the idea that she loves him.

Happy’s come too far to lose it all. She won’t lose it all.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“I, uh,” he smiles at her, his eyes flickering down to her lips, “I think we should confirm that. Using one of those kiss methods you seem to be fond of.” His lips quirk up, just a tiny bit. “There’s a lot of kissing in that story of ours.”

Happy laughs, feeling breathless and uncertain. Which is stupid, so stupid, because this is Toby. But she leans in, her heart fluttering, and rests a hand on Toby’s chest.

It’s like the way a first kiss should be – soft and sweet and hesitant, like the first kisses Happy had as a teenager. It’s all she can do not to shatter. It shouldn’t feel foreign to have his lips against hers – she’s memorized them at this point, memorized him. But she can tell in the way he holds back that this is all new to him.

There’s something to be said for the starry-eyed look he’s giving her when he pulls away, smiling and dazed. “I know I’ve kissed you before,” he says, a little breathless, “I must have. But that felt like it was the first time. I don’t even…” He trails off, his smile genuine and baffled, a little like his after their first real kiss. “I really do love you, Happy. I can’t believe – I can’t believe you’re here.”

Happy smiles at him, trying not to show him that her heart is breaking for the millionth time that day. “Of course I’m here,” she tells him, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

Toby begins to yawn, and Happy worries just long enough for him to say, “Relax, Hap, I’m going to be tired. My brain’s still healing.” And then he gives her a look Happy can’t decode.

“What?” Happy asks gently. “Are you okay?”

“Can you – can you stay here tonight?” he asks, seeming sure she’ll say no.

Happy doesn’t want to let it out how relieved she is, how nice it’ll be to sleep near him. The night before was only tolerable because she barely slept, and the thought of sleeping alone in their bed, cold and empty without him, was terrifying her. “Yeah,” she says. “Of course. I’ll sleep in the chair.”

He smiles at her, looking grateful. “Thanks for keeping an eye on me.”

She smiles at him. “Any time.”

Toby ends up falling asleep curled around a pillow, but one hand is holding Happy’s. It’s more than she had this morning, she tells herself. It’s more than she had hours and hours ago, when they first got here. She’ll get him back.

Paige steps in a few minutes later, Ralph holding her hand like he’s a preschooler. He looks scared.

“Hey, guys,” Happy says quietly. “He’s sleeping.”

“Looks like he remembers at least a little bit about you,” Paige says, nodding to where Happy’s hand is entwined with Toby’s.

Happy shrugs. “He does. But – it’s going to be a while. You two should head home, get some real sleep.”

“Happy, it’s twelve thirty in the afternoon,” Paige says gently.

“Maybe I need some real sleep,” Happy mutters.

Paige nods. “Ralph?”

He shuffles forward and drops Happy’s bag on the floor next to her. “I really hope he gets better, Happy,” he says quietly. In a moment that Happy completely understands, he leans forward and gives a half hug.

“Thanks, Ralph,” Happy says with a smile. “I hope he does, too.”

She reads with one hand, watches boring talk shows, and makes brief small talk with nurses and doctors who come in to check on Toby. It feels horrible, like they’re talking about somebody who isn’t laying in the bed next to them. Because Toby doesn’t know the answer to half of the questions, but Happy knows the answer to all of them.

Eventually exhaustion weighs on Happy, and she falls asleep, waking every time a doctor or nurse comes in to check Toby, which feels like every two minutes. When it’s finally morning and the doctor says Toby should be clear to leave at five that afternoon, barring any complications.

Toby’s face lights up. “I’ll get to go home today?”

“If you stay safe and have somebody who will keep an eye on you,” he says firmly. The doctor looks at Happy pointedly. “Then, yes, you can go home.”

“I’ve got him,” Happy says. “This dope isn’t going to get into any trouble on my watch.”

“What if I want to get into trouble?” Toby asks, grinning.

It’s so much like her Toby that she forgets, for just a minute, that he’s five years behind where she is, that this is the Toby who gambles and frets about Amy and gets so drunk every other month that he ends up pounding on Happy’s apartment door because he lost his keys and he’s too scared to go look for them alone. She loved him then, she’s beginning to realize. She just didn’t know what it felt like.

“No trouble,” the doctor insists.

A few hours later and Happy and Toby sign a bunch of discharge paperwork, boring initialing and fine print that the two of them zoom through without really thinking about it. When Happy tries to get the doctor’s attention about a question, she realizes she doesn’t even know his name.

“Toby,” she says out of the corner of her mouth, “what’s your doctor’s name?”

He looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t know his name?”

“It’s been a rough couple of days, okay?” Happy mumbles, initialing the part past the vague piece. “Paige took care of most of the paperwork. I just freaked out for a day until you woke up.”

Toby smiles at her. “You really care about me,” he says, like he’s starting to believe it.

Happy nods, nudging his leg with her foot. “Yeah, Doc,” she says quietly. “I do. For some weird reason.”

“It’s my incredible charm and mad skills in bed, isn’t it?” And then Toby freezes, blushing.

“Relax,” Happy sighs, continuing to initial and sign pages as she reads through, like nothing happened, “you do that all the time. I’ve gotten over it.”

“I do what?” Toby asks, turning even more red.

“Make stupid sex jokes inappropriately,” Happy says.

“I do?” Toby asks. “I mean, you’ve gotten over it?”

“After the thirtieth time, yeah,” she replies. “Plus, it’s annoying, but it’s accurate.”

“What is?” Toby asks, and now he really looks confused.

Happy tries to keep a straight face. “Your skills in bed.”

Toby’s silent enough that Happy looks over to see the pen, dropped in his lap, and his jaw hanging to the floor. “Am I dreaming?” he asks. “Did you seriously just say that?”

Happy shrugs. “Only because nobody but you could hear it.”

Toby adjusts his hoodie around his shoulders. “2017 Happy Quinn is very different than 2012 Happy Quinn.”

“2012 Happy Quinn also didn’t speak more than three or four words at a time,” Happy clarifies, “and that’s the least of the changes.” She looks down at the engagement ring.

“Yeah,” Toby says quietly. “But I like the changes.”

“Good to know,” Happy says. But she’s a little relieved that the Toby who knew her in 2012 doesn’t feel like she’s changed so much it’s impossible to still love her.

~

“Did you decorate this place?” Toby asks, walking into their apartment. “Because this looks nothing like my place.”

Happy smiles at him. “You have been banned from choosing curtains,” she explains. “I decorate, you cook. It’s a deal we made.”

“I can cook?” he asks, looking baffled. “I can’t cook.”

Happy stares at him. “Yes, you can.”

He shakes his head. “What the hell did I learn in the past five years?” he mutters. Then his eyes widen. “Happy, I didn’t get –” He pulls up his shirt, looking around. “Oh, thank god.”

“What the hell was that?” she asks, trying not to laugh at him, because it wasn’t funny, but it kind of was.

“A couple months before now – I mean,” he frowns, “before the point where my memory starts, I ran out of money so, as collateral, I told a guy I would get a tattoo of Tony the Tiger on my stomach if I lost the bet.”

Happy just stares at him. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Toby looks appropriately sheepish. “I’ve gotten myself into some really bad situations,” he mumbles.

“I’ve heard,” Happy replies. She tries to keep her tone airy and light, like it’s not painful to rehash these memories. She’s heard so many of Toby’s stories, saved him from endings that could have been a lot more dramatic than what they’re living right now. But, somehow, this feels worse. Because he’s here, but he’s not the Toby she knows.

Happy plays with her ring again, twisting it around her finger until she can think of what else to say. Silence has never felt heavy with the two of them until today.

“I’ve changed, right?” Toby asks.

Happy looks up at him to see a broken, vulnerable look on his face. She’s seen it before – he only shows it with her – but, to him, this is the first time his opened up to her like this. “Yes,” she replies. “You have.” She manages a smile. “Not too much, though. You still annoy the hell out of me.”

Toby smiles back at her, and it washes a sense of relief across Happy’s shoulders. “That is something I’m good at.” He fiddles with the strings of his jacket. “Gambling, being annoying, and figuring out people.”

“You’re also a decent boyfriend,” Happy adds. She wants him to know that from the start. Despite the stupidity of the beginning of their relationship, despite the times when she was awake at night frightened he fell off the wagon or got hit by a car walking home from the garage, this is worth it. Toby’s good at this – he’s the only person who’s ever made her feel at home, the only person who she’s ever felt this safe around. She doesn’t want to admit to losing him, but she also doesn’t want Toby to think she’s going to up and leave if this gets hard. He was there for her when she got divorced and confronted the past she’d run from for years. She’ll be here for him now.

Toby sighs. “That’s surprising. I never thought a screw up gambling addict would be a decent anything.”

“That’s another thing,” Happy adds, and she’s not sure how to approach this, “you quit gambling.”

Happy’s a little thrown off by the expression of disbelief. “I what?” Toby asks.

“You quit,” Happy says, leaning against their kitchen counter. “Burned the betting slips in front of me on top of the garage roof.” She smiles at him. “You did it because I asked you to.”

He exhales, long and deep. “I did it.”

She nods. “You did.”

When Toby looks at her again, it’s almost like he’s back to Happy’s Toby. “I always knew you would change me,” he says, and he’s got a little laughter in the back of his throat. “You’re amazing, Happy.”

She shrugs. “I don’t suck.” Happy picks up Toby’s bag again. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed. You shouldn’t be up and walking around.”

“Who’s the doctor now?” Toby jokes. The heavy atmosphere dissipates, and Happy feels herself relax. It felt wrong to be in their home and not feel comfortable, and she’s glad that feeling is gone.

Toby stops in the doorway of their bedroom. “We sleep here,” he says quietly. It’s not a memory but a statement, like he’s trying to convince himself. He looks over at Happy. “This is our bed.”

Happy nods. “I insisted on a king size, because you’re a damn blanket hog.”

Toby laughs. “Okay, now I definitely believe that we’re together. I really am a blanket hog.”

Happy helps him into bed, and he yawns. “I think I’m going to sleep,” he mumbles. When he rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes, he looks incredibly young and peaceful. Happy feels like she’s getting a glimpse into the Toby who existed before Scorpion, the person who had survived so much but didn’t have the coping mechanisms yet.

“Goodnight,” Happy says quietly. But she thinks Toby’s already asleep, so she turns to leave.

“Wait,” she hears. Happy turns back to the bed. “Happy, can you – will you sleep here tonight?”

Happy tries to contain her surprise. “In the room?”

“In my – in our bed,” Toby replies. “This is your home, too. I know you’re going through a lot, too.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I don’t want you to have to give up your bed, too.”

“It’s okay,” Happy lies, because she wants to be next to him, she really does, but jumping boundaries would feel awful and if Toby needs to be alone right now she’s not going to get in the way of him healing. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

The look on Toby’s face feels damn near to a punch in the gut. “I want you here,” he says in a tiny voice. And Happy gets it suddenly – if she’s next to him when he wakes up, and he knows why she’s there, he won’t have lost any more of his memory. She’s his lifeline to his past. It’s a heavy burden.

“Okay,” she says, pulling off her boots. She sets them by the door, like Toby always did. At first she’d thought it was a passive aggressive way to tell her to pick up her stuff, but two months into their relationship Toby explained that it was a habit from his childhood. If they ever had to run out of the house, his shoes were always by the door. Now she can’t break his habit.

Happy feels unbelievably awkward as she lay in bed, which feels so wrong.

“Can I ask you something weird?”

Happy turns to Toby. “Yeah,” she says, her heart racing. She has no idea where this question is going, what’s coming next. “Go ahead.”

“Do we hold hands?”

Happy blinks. “Sometimes,” she replies. “Why?”

“I kind of want to hold your hand right now.” His voice is tiny, almost like a little kid’s, and Happy’s half tempted to laugh. “Like we did yesterday.”

“You’re such a dork,” Happy says, but she reaches out and takes his hand. It calms the atmosphere.

“Yeah, I know,” Toby says quietly.

“Goodnight, Doc,” Happy murmurs. But she thinks he’s already fallen asleep.

Happy decides to follow suit, her fingers linked with Toby’s. But, despite the fitful sleep from the night before and the hectic nature of the past couple of days, Happy can’t sleep. She’s never been able to nap, and falling asleep at six in the evening counts as a nap.

Happy pulls out her phone and begins messing around with her music, a couple apps, some annoyingly addictive game Paige suggested for her. Nothing’s working to calm her brain – too much is spiraling around in her thoughts.

She hadn’t realized her music was on shuffle until _You Are the Man_ begins to play, sending a shudder through her. She can’t hold it back, so she lets it hurt. Of all the ways Toby could break her heart, this was never in her plan. She always feared he’d leave her, always got scared that her secrets would rebuild a wall between them that Toby wouldn’t be able to break down. Instead, she’s shattered because of a head wound. It doesn’t seem fair. Happy doesn’t see that Toby’s awake until his thumb rubs against the back of Happy’s hand.

“Did I wake you up?” she asks, frowning. Without meaning to, she runs her thumb along Toby’s hand in response. “I’m sorry.”

Toby shakes his head. “No, I wanted to – have I heard that song before?”

Happy’s heart starts racing. “Yes,” she says, desperately trying to keep calm.

Toby frowns. “I have?”

She nods, and she’s too excited, too hopeful right now. “You have,” Happy repeats. “In the fall of 2015, we went to this college campus to do a job. When we finished it up, we were outside the campus together, right before we got into my car. You told me you’d never had normal college experiences, so,” she chances a smile at him in the dim light of her cell phone, “so I asked you to dance.”

“You danced?” he asks, sounding shocked. “With me?”

Happy nods, trying not to feel too disappointed that he clearly doesn’t remember the moment, only the tune. “To this song.”

He purses his lips, clearly trying to find some answer in the blank slate of his mind. “I don’t – I don’t remember it yet.”

Happy’s heart falls. “Okay,” she says quietly.

“You could show me, though,” Toby says.

Happy turns to him. “Show you?”

Toby nods, sitting up gingerly. “Can I have this dance, Happy Quinn?”     

Happy turns up the music on her phone so it fills the room, echoing like the memory of the last time they danced to this song. It’s a bittersweet ache, a memory now tainted with hints of the heartache brought on by Toby’s memory loss. But they can build new memories, and it can be better. They can make it better. Happy stands up, and Toby takes her hand.

It’s almost jarring how similar Toby’s movements are to the first time they danced. A tentative hand holding hers, an arm around her waist so gentle it’s almost like he’s worried she’ll run, and the smallest smile on his lips, like he’s afraid it’s going to end but he can’t hold back his excitement.

Happy steps closer, resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat sounds the same – steady and stable, something she can hold onto throughout all of this.

“What changed?” he asks after some time passes.

“Hmm?” Happy mumbles. For a moment there she was able to pretend she had Toby back, that he was her Toby again.

“With us,” Toby says. He’s resting his chin on the top of her head, just like he’s done for years. “What changed?”

“I told you,” Happy replies. She doesn’t feel like talking right now. She’d rather stand and sway without thinking. “One day I just sort of blinked and realized running away from how much I – how much I cared about you was stupid.” She buries her face in his chest. “And then you almost died for me, in this blizzard down at the South Pole, and – and after that, it was obvious. We were supposed to be together. It was logic.”

Toby chuckles, low and deep. “I like how you’re using science to prove love.”

“It’s a chemical thing, right?” she laughs. “So love is science.”

“It’s more than that.” Toby trails his fingertips up and down Happy’s back, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. “We’re more than just science.”

“Of course we are,” Happy replies. “But that’s sappy. Sappy is your job description.”

Toby laughs. “Good to know.”

The song ends soon after, and that’s when Happy feels like she could sleep. She doesn’t think too much about it when they fall into bed half asleep, their arms around each other.

It’s just under two hours later when Happy’s phone alarm goes off.

“Hey, Toby,” she says quietly, unsure of how to wake him up now that she can’t be sure he’ll know why she’s in his bed. “I’ve got to check on you.”

Toby mumbles something incoherent. Happy tries not to worry that it means he’s lost his ability to speak or something else.

“Doc, open your eyes,” Happy cajoles. “If I’m up, you’re up.”

“You’re the meanest girlfriend in the world,” Toby mumbles. “I’ve got head trauma, you can’t wake me up.”

“You’re hilarious,” Happy deadpans. “Out of curiosity –”

“It’s not back.” Three words kill the lighthearted atmosphere. “But I haven’t lost anything since my accident, and I remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.”

Happy manages a smile. “Well, that’s good.”

“Remembering more would be better,” Toby replies. “I’m awake and I’m alive. Can I go back to sleep now, Dr. Quinn?”

“Oh, god,” Happy groans. “No. That is not going to be your new nickname for me.”

“Dr. Quinn, medicine woman,” Toby says with a grin as he closes his eyes. “I could get into that.”

“Perv,” Happy grumbles. But when he reaches up to pull her into his arms, she cuddles in without a second thought.

Toby remembers more tiny bits, more tiny pieces, each time Happy wakes him up. A flicker of Paige’s waitress uniform, a glimpse of their adventure at Fort Knox. He quoted Happy’s “Really, Doc? You’ve really never been happier?” and it was all Happy could do not to break into a stupid little dance.

“It’s coming back slowly,” Toby says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I think,” he purses his lips, “I think it could be back by tomorrow morning.”

Happy laughs. “It is tomorrow morning.”

He frowns. “Right. That.” He yawns. “One of the times I wake up later today, then.”

“And why are you thinking that?” Happy asks, because she needs the science behind it, needs more detail than just what Toby thinks.

“Well, the swelling in my brain has certainly gone down,” he begins, “judging from the steady decrease in my headache over the past few hours.” He touches the head wound gently. “It doesn’t feel as tender as it had been, and I’ve already started pulling back memories that have sensory triggers.” His lips quirk up. “You know, touch is a good sensory trigger.”

“I thought smell was a better one,” Happy fires back.

“Aw, come on,” Toby whines, “you’re going to make me ask you to kiss me?”

Happy shrugs. “Maybe.”

Toby pouts. “Pretty please.”

And she rolls her eyes like this is a chore, leaning down to kiss his lips as carefully and gently as possible. “Remember anything else?” she asks, her heart racing.

Toby considers it. “Just that you’re an amazing kisser.” He beams at her. “Hey, I’m going to try resting again. I think,” he yawns, “I think the more I sleep, the better I’ll heal.” He lights up. “And the sooner I’ll get my memory back.”

“I can handle that,” Happy replies. She leans in and kisses his forehead, a tiny press of lips. “Good morning.”

Happy wants to join him in dream land, but it’s not coming, the anticipation of what may happen the next time Toby opens his eyes building in her heart. She’s not a doctor, damn it, she’s an engineer, but she feels like she might have her Toby back when he wakes up again. His brain is still healing, his head probably still hurts, but it’s almost over. Toby’s almost back.

The nervous energy floods across her shoulders, and she sits up. “Alright,” she says. “Get something done. Stop waiting around.”

Happy ends up cleaning the bathroom, fixing their leaky bathroom sink, greasing the hinges on their front door, and does a couple of dishes before the two hour mark comes up again.

She wipes her hands on a rag and then washes them, the possibility of what may happen when she wakes Toby nearly too much to bear.

“Wakey, wakey, Doc,” Happy says, her heart pounding.

Toby’s eyes open. But there’s no extra recognition there. “Not yet,” he says. The disappointment weighs on Happy’s shoulders. “Hey, no,” he says gently. “Don’t do that. It’ll come back.”

“I’m fine,” Happy says, brushing him off. “No, I’m fine.”

“Don’t do that,” Toby insists. “Just – it’s going to be okay.” He smiles. “Want to try that sensory trigger again?”

“Dweeb,” Happy says, but she kisses him softly in their most memorized way. She tries not to think about how Toby hasn’t memorized anything about them yet.

Happy walks into the kitchen, grabs Toby water, and makes them something that could be considered breakfast, and they eat in bed, talking aimlessly.

Happy checks her phone. “Paige wants to know how you are.” It’s a gauge of his memory, something subtle to see if she can pull out more from his mind without doing much.

Toby sighs. “I still don’t – I really don’t know her, you know?”

Happy nods. “So…”

“Don’t tell her that,” Toby insists. “Tell her I’m doing okay, and that I say hi.”

Happy texts Paige as Toby asked, and watches as Toby starts to yawn.

“Sleep again?” she asks.

Toby shakes his head. “I want to walk around a little bit. My back is cramping up from all this bed time. And not in the fun way.”

Happy scoffs. “You weirdo.”

“Your weirdo,” Toby says pointedly. Then he blinks. “We do that a lot, don’t we?”

Happy nods. “A whole lot,” she confirms.

Toby takes a shower without falling over or hurting himself, which Happy finds rather amusing. When he walks back out, he’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping out of his hair.

“You’re drenching the carpet,” Happy says, trying not to be too attracted to his stupid skinny body.

“I thought you’d like it!” Toby laughs. “Sexy boyfriend walking out of the bathroom, no memory but vague flashes of their past? I thought this was in every romance novel.” He yawns so widely that he nearly falls over.

“If you think I’ve ever read a romance novel, then you’ve really lost your memory,” Happy replies. “And dry your hair before you go back to sleep. I don’t want you to get the blankets wet.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Toby replies. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, and curls up into bed. He’s asleep in minutes.

“And now, I wait,” Happy mumbles. She takes a page out of Toby’s book and heads into the shower, taking her time to let the hot water wash over her. It’s the first time she’s felt relaxed in days, and she’s starting to think that this is going to be okay. She’s going to get Toby back – it’s just a matter of time.

By the time she steps out of the shower, it’s one in the afternoon, close to when she’ll have to wake Toby up again.

And then she hears her name called from the bedroom.

“Happy,” Toby shouts. “Happy, come here for a minute.”

Happy steps out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. “Are you okay? What’s up?”

He looks at her, and she knows. She knows.

“It’s back?” she asks, hardly believing it.

He nods, his hands shaking almost as much as his voice. “Happy, I remember everything. Really remember it.” He stands up and walks toward her and, finally, for the first time in three terrible days, he kisses her in the way they’ve practiced a million times, the memorized movement Happy didn’t know she missed this badly until she had it back again.

“You kissed me when I proposed to you in April of 2016,” he says, eyes distant like he’s watching a memory, “you said no, because you were married. You walked out of the garage with confetti still in your hair.”

Happy nods, her hands shaking. “Yeah, that’s how it happened.” She doesn’t know why he’s chosen this memory until she realizes – they hadn’t talked about this in the past few days. He wouldn’t know about this if he didn’t have his memory back.

“When you kissed me the first time,” he says, stepping closer to her, “you wouldn’t let me talk, wouldn’t let me say anything. You walked away.”

“That’s how it happened,” Happy says. Toby rests his hands on her shoulders.

“Happy, I’m back,” he sighs. He rests his forehead against hers. “I’m back.”

She’s used words so much in the past few days, held back on touching and feeling and wanting. And she doesn’t have to anymore.

Happy tilts her head to slide her lips against Toby’s, and he responds back with a desperate fervor Happy hasn’t felt in too long. She lets her towel drop to the floor and goes for his shirt, pulling it off over his head.

“I love you,” he gasps against her lips. “Why are you so perfect?”

“Am not,” Happy replies. She has something snarky to say back, but Toby’s hands are touching her again, on her bare skin like he’s got the map of her body memorized again, and she can’t think. For only being a handful of days with distance between them, it’s startling how desperate she is to be close to him.

“Yes,” Toby breathes against her lips, “you are.” He kisses her slowly, deeply, enough to make her whimper just the tiniest bit in the back of her throat, clutch him closer.

“I remember how beautiful you looked when you told Walter to stuff it when he wanted us not to be together,” Toby says, kissing his way down her neck. “I remember how brave you were when you saved that guy in the middle of nowhere using tequila and a straw.” Happy starts walking them backward and Toby follows, his hands roaming all over her body. “I remember the look on your face when you said you couldn’t marry me, and the look on your face when you said you could.” He kisses her as they fall back onto the bed, and she can’t keep her hands off of him.

“Hold on,” Happy says. Toby freezes. “No, I just – I need to say this.” She steadies herself. Speaking has never been her strong suit – she’s just not good at it – but she needs to talk to him, needs him to hear this. “I never want to lose you like that again.”

Toby nods, brushing some rogue curls out of Happy’s face. “I never want to go away like that ever again.”

He’s hearing her, but she’s not saying what she needs to be saying.

“No, Toby, I,” she exhales. “Toby, you’re – you’re the most important – you’re,” the words stick in the back of her mind. “You’re mine.”

He smiles at her. “There’s no argument from me.”

Happy sighs. “I don’t think I’m saying this right.”

“That’s okay,” Toby says. To Happy’s chagrin, he rolls to the side, but he rests his hand on her stomach, tracing patterns into her skin. It’s distracting and a touch that Happy wants for the rest of her life.

“Let’s get married now,” Happy blurts out.

She turns to see Toby with his eyes widened. “What?”

“Now,” she sits up. “I want to get married now.”

“Happy, honey, it’s 3pm on a Sunday,” he laughs. “I’m not sure anybody would be –” He cuts off abruptly. “Oh.”

“What?” Happy asks. She’s suddenly very aware of her lack of clothes by the way Toby’s looking at her.

“That’s what you’re trying to say,” he says. His voice is distant, almost trance like. “You want to keep me.”

“Well, duh!” Happy exclaims. She’s half ready to glare at him. “I never want to lose you like that. Ever again. I want to do whatever I can to make you mine. Forever. So,” she looks at him pointedly, “married. Now.”

“Paige has spent six months getting a wedding ready,” he says, reaching out to settle a hand on her arm, “so we should probably get married then.”

Happy huffs.

“Happy, I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “Even when I lost my memory, I knew I loved you. I think I have since I met you, even when I was with Amy I knew there was something special about you.”

Happy searches his face. “You’re not kidding.”

Toby shakes his head. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Since the very beginning.”

Happy surges forward and kisses him, her hands on either side of his face as she flattens him to the mattress. She’s careful of the bruise on the top of his head, makes sure that he doesn’t roll over too recklessly or hurt himself.

“That was like the piano kiss,” Toby says, looking a little dazed. “Have I mentioned that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever done?”

Happy shrugs, trailing her fingertips along his arms. “Once or twice.”

“I love you,” he says quietly, and his kiss says a million things Happy’s been dying to hear. “But, Happy.” He pulls away, wincing a little bit. “Hap, I’ve got one hell of a headache.”

Happy sighs. “I understand. I literally blew your mind, I get it.”

“Too soon!” Toby exclaims, but he’s smiling. “No more ‘losing my mind’ or ‘blowing my mind’ jokes. At least for a while.”

Happy nods. “Deal.”

Toby yawns. “I’m really tired.”

“Then go to sleep,” Happy suggests.

“But you’re really naked,” Toby says, eyes roaming all over her body. “And that’s – that’s really distracting.”

Happy pokes him in the arm and pulls on a shirt and shorts from their messy draws. “Better?”

Toby yawns. “I suppose I could sleep now.” He reaches out and catches her hand, and Happy folds herself into his arms. “As long as you’re here with me.”

“Not going anywhere, Doc,” Happy replies, feeling comfortable and content for the first time in days. “You’re stuck with me.”

“And those,” he presses his lips to her neck, “are the best words you’ve ever spoken.”


End file.
